


fire and ash

by liveonthesun



Category: The Locked Tomb Trilogy | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir
Genre: Cigarettes, F/F, Rough Sex, cigarette burns
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:53:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28835172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/liveonthesun/pseuds/liveonthesun
Summary: For the TLT Kink Meme Prompt: "Wake x Pyrrha-in-G1deon; Wake puts a cigarette out into Pyrrha’s chest. The burn wound heals over, slowly, and Wake licks the new skin because she’s Like That. Add whatever other sexiness you’d like."What it says on the tin.
Relationships: Pyrrha Dve/Wake | Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead
Comments: 7
Kudos: 31
Collections: TLT Kink Meme





	fire and ash

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to [gallpall](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallpall) and [blackrose_juri](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose_juri) for looking this over and making me care so much about these two to begin with.

The shuttle is small and smoke hangs thick in the air. Gideon doesn't smoke, never did. Pyrrha gets it, it's a dirty habit. But when she finds herself awake in his body her brain immediately starts screaming for as much nicotine as she can cram into her lungs. Pyrrha has been here now for over fourteen hours and has lost count of the number of cigarettes she's smoked during that time. Sure, she could count the butts littered around in cups, but that would require more effort than she's willing to extend right now.

Wake is spread out next to her, red hair haloed around her head and spilling over the pillow. Her body is covered in the sheen of sweat and she's still breathing hard from the day's sex -- several rounds of taking turns fucking each other into the mattress until one of them forfeited -- and her chest is heaving up and down as she tries to get her breath back.

(Tonight had ended with Wake face-down against the sheets, one of Pyrrha's hands tangled in her hair, the other keeping her arm pinned behind her back as she drove into her until she sobbed. It's always Wake who forfeits, so they only fuck like this when she's just had a victory. She may be unyielding, may be made of spit and fire and rage, but she's still only human and Pyrrha is still half a lyctor.)

The minutes stretch out silently between them as Pyrrha finishes her cigarette. When she lights another, Wake rolls over and says, "Tell me what your body was like."

Pyrrha finds herself at a loss for words. It's been so long since she's seen herself, dressed herself, cleaned herself, touched herself, that she's not even sure if she could remember.

"I don't know," she answers. "I think I remember how it felt, vague flashes of my skin and hands, but I'm not sure I remember specifics."

What she doesn't say is that sometimes when Wake fucks her, she sees herself more clearly. Wake will touch his bicep and Pyrrha will remember her own, how it felt to throw her spear, how it looked when she flexed in the mirror after a workout. Wake will bite his nipple and Pyrrha will remember her breasts, the round softness of them contrasting with the rest of her muscular body. Wake will slide her hand between his legs and Pyrrha will remember her clit, how it liked to be touched, will try to guide Wake to run her hands over his dick as if she was running it between the folds of her outer labia.

Wake takes the cigarette from her hands and flips it around in her fingers, looking at it long and hard. "This doesn't hurt him," she says.

"No," Pyrrha answers.

"He killed you and stole your soul and you can't even destroy his lungs to get back at him."

She doesn't answer that. Doesn't know how to explain to this woman whose entire existence is fueled by revenge that she doesn't want that for him, doesn't want to destroy him the way Wake thinks she should.

"Well," Wake says, "if you can't hurt him, I will."

And then Wake takes the cigarette and drives the tip of it into his sternum, right between his pecs.

The scent of burnt skin joins the scent of tobacco in the air as she holds it down, as she lets it burn and burn and doesn't let up. Pyrrha can feel the burn worsening, can feel the searing pain as layers of skin and fat melt away and the fiery ash cauterizes the edges of the wound even as it makes it worse.

She lets it.

(Maybe there's a part of her that does want revenge after all.)

Wake's eyes never leave hers, holding contact until she decides it's time to let up. When she lifts the cigarette she lowers her eyes to admire her work.

It heals far too slowly for Gideon's body. It heals far too quickly for Wake's satisfaction.

Pyrrha watches her face as the burn starts to mend, the fat and flesh replacing themselves quicker than they burned. Wake's face quickly changes from admiration to scorn and then fury as she drives the cigarette into place again before the healing fully commences. Pyrrha gasps this time, the new flesh still so sensitive that it hurts ten times worse than it did the first time.

And then Wake lifts the cigarette and replaces it with her mouth, her tongue pressing into the destroyed skin even as it begins to repair itself again. It's a relief and a torment all at once as the wet from her tongue cools the skin and the pressure deepens the pain. She sucks at it, nips at the edges as though trying to delay the healing as long as possible, as though wishing to stretch the hole open, to dig it deeper.

Pyrrha can't keep her eyes off of her, can't focus on anything but the pain of the burn and the pain of Wake's mouth, can't find it in herself to make her stop.

The pain becomes pleasure eventually as her body floods with endorphins and oxytocin. She finds her mind going hazy and gets lost in the duel of sensations. For half a second she wonders if she should let herself go under, let Gideon resurface to find himself stripped naked and being burned by the woman he's been tasked to kill. It's the kind of thing they would have laughed about together ten thousand years ago. But she realizes Wake probably wouldn't survive the fallout and snaps herself back to the surface just in time.

It's already a dangerous game they're playing. There's no need for her to up the risks.

It feels like a loss when the burn finally heals itself despite Wake's best efforts. She misses the sharp burn, the sickening scent, the wet of Wake's tongue. She pulls Wake up to kiss her, to bite and suck at her mouth with the same heat and fire Wake used against his body. The cigarette gets knocked out of Wake's hand, trapped between their bodies, and the process starts all over again as it burns a new hole where it's pinned against his collarbone.

This is how they spend the night, Wake pressing burns into Gideon's flesh as Pyrrha loses herself to the overwhelming incongruity of sensation.

She never knows if she wants it to stop or continue but does know that it's not really up to her anymore.

(This is nothing new. This has been her life for a myriad.)

**Author's Note:**

> There's already tons of great prompts over at the [TLT kink meme](https://tlt-kink.dreamwidth.org/583.html)! It's open to anyone with no sign-ups or deadlines, so check it out. :)


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